


Renegades

by espinosas



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Also Jesus refers to her as Maggie Rhee in this fic, Fluff, Other, So I love them sue me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 08:12:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10330133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/espinosas/pseuds/espinosas
Summary: Jesus can't sleep, Maggie has Sasha's knife and I suck at summaries.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This was inspired by 7x14 (what a great episode, right?) 
> 
> I hope you like it!

Jesus couldn't sleep.

He sat with his back against the steps of the trailer, wood pressing red marks into his skin, watched clouds begin to fog his view of the stars. Still, his hazy mind supplied, it was more beautiful and brighter than the clogged and polluted skyline he’d been witness to before. Not that he’d noticed the, admittedly limited, views that nature gave before the world went to shit. Always too busy, too unhappy, seeking familiarity in a stranger’s home, his small, insignificant life never once allowed him to look up. Only to his feet, always moving, seeking something that was never there.

His eyes stung with exhaustion, thoughts dragging at a slow pulse. A heavy yawn escaped  the gaps between his fingers, fogging the crisp night air.

If the Saviours were to attack right now, come back, knock down that eyesore of splits and cracks they called a gate, shoot Eduardo and Dante down from their places right up there, on display for friend and foe to see, he’d be dead before he could even think to fight. They’d take Daryl, Maggie too, probably kill Enid just for shits and giggles.

He’d be powerless.

The gentle chill of the night tickled his skin, each goosebump at the back of his neck raised as a result of the dirty blonde mass at the crown of his head. There was something amusing about his love of the night, the solidarity that welcomed him, that made him feel at peace, the pensive darkness that hid the unknown that brought him comfort more than the company of his people managed to. Maybe when he was less tired, when his bones didn’t settle in placid exhaustion, he would recognise how much a paradox he was to the image this community and it's leader clung to.

Jesus liked Maggie. Admired her. _Trusted_ her. Even he could recognise that she was going to lead this place. Drag it out of the dirt he’d admittedly never taken a shovel to until now. Sasha would be there to ground her, to steer her and Jesus in the direction they needed but couldn't comprehend wanting.

 _Should_ be there.

The door to the trailer opened, let out a groan as the rusted metal rubbed together. Maggie sat beside him, knocked his knee with a followed apology, filled the empty space right up. They barely fit on the step, the two of them, together.

He watched Maggie pull Sasha’s knife that she'd left her from her belt, watched her dig it into the ridges Daryl had made with his bolts earlier. Her soft, quiet breathing only added to the serenity that Jesus had been bathing in for hours.

Maggie’s hair is short; inches shorter than his. It fell down to her right cheekbone and highlighted the sharpness of her face.

“Your hair,” he enquired with a drawn blink, “why’d you cut it?”

Maggie looked up, full lips forming a small ‘O’, like that was the last thing she’d been expecting Jesus to ask. Probably was.

“No idea. Not really had it this short before.” She looked away with a smile as she twirled the blade into the wood. “‘cept before, on the farm, I had it to m’ shoulders. Kinda like it.”

Jesus nodded, rubbing at his eye.

“What about you?”

It was Jesus’ turn to be surprised.

“Not really sure, just kinda liked it.”

Maggie breathed a laugh, knocking his shoulder with teasing intention. Her eyes flicked up to the mop of blonde on his head. She’d not really seen it tied up before.

Jesus stifled another yawn, drawn out this time.

Purple still tinged the skin surrounding her eyes, pulled up in an exhausted grip. Her fingers twitched where they gripped the handle, yet she hadn't yawned once. Jesus suspected she, too, hadn’t had a wink of sleep. He linked bruising fingers in the space between hers and she ran a thumb along the back of his.

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

Her brows pulled together.

“You've gone to war.” Jesus bit into his bottom lip, it was chapped and splitting. Absently, he licked at it. “How’d it end?”

Maggie shifted, tucking hair out of her eyes and allowed blue to study green. She lay the blade, still, on the step.

“Does it matter? It led us here, didn’t it? Led me to you.”

Jesus grew hot under the eye contact; it was like he were the one being questioned, being scrutinised. He was, he supposed.

She allowed a beat, chest rising, before she spoke again. “This asshole, he called himself a Governor, rolled up to our community in a tank. After months of.. nothing. Tara was with him. He had her and her sister convinced we were inexcusable murderers or something.”

She continued, blinks rapid and grip on his hand tight. “That was the day my dad died. Killed him with Michonne’s sword. Then he blew the place up.”

“All of us went in separate directions, some didn't make it. But we still made it back together. Made it here.”

Jesus’ first thought was the pocket watch he’d spotted at Glenn’s grave the first time Maggie had visited. How she still kissed it every morning before rewinding it's time.

“The pocket watch, it was your dad’s, wasn't it?”

She looked at him with such unadulterated awe, like he was light on a stormy day. “Yeah.”

“Maggie, I’m so sorry.”

She refused to let her eyes fill. “You haven’t got anythin’ to be sorry for, Paul.” Then she laughed something gentle. “Daryl apologised earlier to me too; for Glenn.”

She’d already told him what happened that night, maybe a week or two previous, how Negan had beaten Glenn because of Daryl’s actions.

“I told him it wasn't down to him, I knew he didn't believe me. He barely hugged me back. I don’t want this to change anything between us.” She focused on the buttons of Jesus’ sweater, blinking. “I can’t lose anyone else.”

The air went quiet, neither spoke for a while and the community fell into darkness again.

He couldn't lie and tell her that she wouldn't lose anybody. He knew that it was a possibility that she’d lose those she cared for. Lose him, maybe, lose Enid, Daryl, himself. Lose Sasha.

“Do you think we’ll win?” He asked, voice small.

Maggie let the buzz of the surrounding nature answer for her. “We have no choice but to.”

“Alright then.”

“What?”

“Alright then.. I’m gonna help you.” He lowered his head, met their eyes with a smile. “I believe in you.”

The slightest, subtlest sight of sun breached the horizon. Still, for now, only they and the guards were company to it’s call. As he breathed in the cold and exhaled steam, he felt peace seep into his core.

“We should get inside,” Maggie spoke into his shoulder, tucked into his side. “ _You_ should get inside. Get some sleep for once.”

“Yeah.”

He didn't bring up how he was always audience to her nightmares, or the fact she always seemed to be the first of the five of them in the trailer up and ready. Instead he stood, hand still in hers.

“I’ve got a too-big bed and plenty of pillows waiting. You down?”

She yawned, already pulling at the handle.

—  
When they were both tethering on the edge of sleep, finally, and Daryl’s snoring had pulled as much muffled, delirious laughter from the pair as it could, she pressed a smile into his clothed skin.

“Meant what I said earlier, ya know. ‘Bout letting people close.”

He hummed, eyes shut. “Maybe.”

And then. “You may be a great leader but nothing can change how cold your fucking feet are, Rhee.”

His last thought of consciousness was that he loved her. That he could see himself at her side after the war was over and the crops began to grow and she began to lead. He didn't turn away from the thought. He only welcomed it.

_You should try it sometime. Even if it doesn’t last._


End file.
